


Never Again

by dragon_of_venus



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Family, Gen, Pre-Canon, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-14
Updated: 2010-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_of_venus/pseuds/dragon_of_venus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius is running away, and Regulus isn't stopping him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: Running away, brief arguments, and little comfort.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters, settings, or plots. I make no money from the writing of this piece or any other piece based off of J.K. Rowling's ideas.
> 
> Author's Notes: I don't usually write gen, but I couldn't quite shake this one. I hope it went well. Con-crit is, as always, welcomed.
> 
> Word Count: 1458

Sirius Black was creeping down the staircase at three in the morning with a broom in his hand and a hastily packed holdall slung over his shoulder, and he still didn't quite believe that he was going to do this. Sure, he _wanted_ to open the door and step into the night and never come back to this awful place again, but there was this oddly comforting voice in the back of his head that kept insisting that instead he was just going to collapse on the living room couch and sulk quietly in the darkness for fifteen minutes or so before deciding _again_ that he was being too dramatic, going back to his room and hoping he'd get some sleep before breakfast was ready.

Then he hit the bottom of the stairs. He paused there in the darkness to touch the key that James had given him last month as a birthday present; a key to James' own front door. As he pulled his hand away, though, the little voice in the back of his head told him softly that he was not going to use that key tonight. As he stepped cautiously across the living room, too afraid to turn on the light, the voice in the back of his mind promised him that he'd freeze when he got to the door.

When he touched the handle, the voice in the back of his head told him he didn't mean it. When he turned the handle, the voice in the back of his head _insisted_ that he only wanted some fresh air.

When he started to push the door open, the voice that stopped him was not at all inside of his head.

"So you're doing it, then?"

Sirius froze. He turned around, and in the dim moonlight that the window let in, he could barely make out the shadowy form of a forth-year on the couch.

"I don't know what you mean," Sirius said, and even _he_ knew that it wasn't at all convincing. "I just wanted some air."

"And a lot of air you'd get with a packed bag and a broomstick." Regulus stood up.

Sirius tensed, waiting for him to cry out for their parents, but he never did.

"Do you have a place to go?"

"Huh?"

Regulus shook his head. "Never mind. It's better if I don't know. Best if _no one_ knows. Would you like another bag?"

Sirius blinked. "Would I like—"

"To take my holdall. Yes. You're not going to get a chance to come back for anything. You'd best take as much of your stuff as you can carry."

"You're not going to stop me?"

Regulus sighed. "Sirius, it's high time that _one of us_ starts thinking about what's best for this family."

"And it's best for the family if I'm not in it?"

"You wouldn't be preparing to fly off into the night if you didn't know the answer to that."

Sirius was quiet. So was the little voice in the back of his head.

"Come on," Regulus told him, "I'll help you pack."

Sirius followed him as they ascended the stairs, walked through Regulus' room and into Regulus' closet to fetch Regulus' holdall, and then finally opened it on Sirius' bed. Neither of them said a word to the other until Regulus turned to him and asked, "What do you want? Are your clothes important to you, or would you rather have your pictures?" He gestured to the walls.

"I'll leave the pictures as something for you to remember me by—"

"—In case I ever start to doubt that this was the right thing to do—"

"—And any clothes that aren't either at Hogwarts or in my bag won't be missed. Just try and get as much of everything else in as you can."

They worked in silence for nearly half an hour, filling the bag with old letters that Sirius wanted to keep, books that he wouldn't mind rereading (though probably never would), more of his quidditch gear, and even a few childhood toys that he couldn't bring himself to part with. Regulus offered to carry the bags down the stairs and, after another trip through the house and a few pestering questions from Regulus about what kind of heating spells he was using to keep himself from freezing out there, they stood in front of the door and waited for the other to say something.

Sirius finally cracked. "I... I never meant to hurt you, okay?"

Regulus snorted.

"Really! If I honestly thought that—"

"You're _leaving_, Sirius," Regulus hissed. "You're quitting—on _us_—on _me_—because it's what your stupid Gryffindor mates want, and Merlin forbid that James Potter actually be wrong about something." He huffed. "You're choosing boys that you've known for four-and-a-half years over your own family, and you honestly expect me to believe that _you don't mean to hurt me_?"

"Regulus—"

"Whatever, Sirius. As long as you didn't _mean_ it." He rolled his eyes.

"Look, if you think that this only about my friends—"

"Is there a problem, masters?"

Both boys went immediately silent and turned to face the elf. They hadn't realized how loud they'd been getting. That was no noise of footsteps or doors opening above, though, so they could hope that they hadn't woken their parents.

Kreacher stood in the doorway to the kitchen. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and moving from the bags on the floor to Sirius' face. When he looked at Regulus, however, he seemed to relax.

Sirius let Regulus handle this. "Everything is fine, Kreacher. Sirius and I were just..." he sighed, "...just having some trouble sleeping."

Kreacher nodded. "Would masters like some tea? It would help masters relax."

There was a second of awkward silence.

"I don't think that will be necessary for Sirius," Regulus said slowly, glancing at Sirius as though to check one last time that he _really_ was going to do this. When Sirius said nothing, Regulus turned back to Kreacher. "But have mine ready in the kitchen in five minutes. And Kreacher?"

"Yes, master?"

"Wait for me in the kitchen. Don't pay any attention to what Sirius and I are doing out here."

"Yes, master." And with that, Kreacher bowed and left.

For an entire minute, Regulus and Sirius just stared at each other. Regulus' eyes warned against starting the fight anew.

The silence was suffocating.

"I'll see you at school, okay, Regulus?" Sirius offered a small smile that he didn't really mean.

Regulus nodded curtly. "That's all you'll do."

Sirius' smile fell. That was it, then. Sirius and Regulus had never really spoken to each other at school anyway, but Sirius had always taken it for granted, without realizing it, that he _could_ talk to Regulus at any time he pleased. Not any more. From the second Sirius stepped through that door, he was dead to Regulus. "So, I guess this is goodbye?"

"It would appear so." Regulus sighed. "The sun'll be up in a few hours. If you're going to fly, you need to leave now."

Sirius bent down to grab his bags, but stopped when Regulus spoke again.

"Sirius?"

Sirius looked up.

"Don't..." For a moment, Sirius was afraid that Regulus was going to say that he'd changed his mind, and that Sirius shouldn't leave. It was unlike Regulus to change his mind so suddenly, but it was equally unlike Regulus to help Sirius do something he knew would upset their parents, and this would upset their parents _a lot_. Sirius' fears were misplaced, though. "Just don't get yourself killed out there, okay?"

Sirius smirked. "Same to you," he said as he slung a holdall over either shoulder, crossing the straps. "Pure-blood life can be rough for eldest sons."

Regulus froze for a second, as though it had _really_ hit him for the first time just what this meant. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I promise if you promise."

"I promise." Sirius picked up his broom and looked his brother over carefully, one last time. "Sorry about keeping you up half the night."

"You'll be keeping me up **all** night," Regulus informed him. His voice had returned to its normal coldness.

"Then I'm sorry about that."

Regulus only nodded. "Goodbye, Sirius."

"Goodbye."

Sirius didn't look back at Regulus as he left, but he felt Regulus watching him until he cast the invisibility spell.

They never spoke again. Regulus never _looked at_ Sirius again, to the best of Sirius' knowledge. Remus once swore that the entire castle got thirty degrees colder every time they passed each other in the halls. Sirius, after carefully weighing the options, had laughed at the assertion. He'd _meant_ that laugh, too, almost as much as he'd meant the stabbed feeling the words had triggered in his heart.


End file.
